


His name had been Pietro

by HikariYumi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Funeral, Gen, Internal Monologue, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Pietro's funeral, after aou, graves, pietro is dead, slight angst, wandas grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariYumi/pseuds/HikariYumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda and the Avengers are attending Pietro's funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His name had been Pietro

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,   
> Thank you for swinging by. Since I'm not English and still learning a lot, please tell me if there are a lot mistakes!  
> Thanks to the lovely Majinie!

His name had been Pietro.

The weather was nice, Wanda thought. The strong, cold wind was pulling at her dress, making it float around her.

It was nice, it reminded her of Pietro. He had always been like a vortex, unstoppable and strong. He had been her twin and older brother, a survivor and protector. He had been Pietro.

The sky was dark grey, hidden behind heavy, ugly clouds, looking like it would start raining anytime soon.

But that was okay, too. Wanda didn't care about the weather, the last important thing in her world was being lowered into a deep and unwelcoming hole at the moment.

Pietro had hated feeling trapped, something remaining from the time in the Hydra cell, but now he had to stay in this grave forever.

Wanda could feel the presence of the Avengers behind her. They had come together again to show the last respect to those who had fallen. Not only Pietro, but everyone who had died in the battle of Sokovia.

She should feel grateful that the team had come, that everyone knew the importance of this last way, but she didn't.

Stark's eyes were fixed on her back while he was standing there in a suit that lacked its typical flashiness, but nevertheless showed its high price. 

All her instincts were telling Wanda to send him away, to not allow him to attend the funeral of her brother, to not allow him to stand at her unprotected back.

It was wrong to still hold a grudge against Stark after all that had happened. Yes, he had made another big mistake, getting them all into trouble, but that hadn't been his intention. He had just wanted to protect everyone. 

And that was something that would always go wrong.

The other pair of eyes Wanda was able to feel wasn't glued to her, but the plain coffin. Barton stared intently at the white lilies that were decorating the wood.

In the last few days, she had tried to find out which presence she thought more unwelcome, Stark's or Barton's.

Both of them were holding a part of the responsibility of Pietro's death. Without Stark, Ultron would never have existed, without Ultron, they would have never fought this fight and he had never died.

Without Clint, her brother would never have had to jump in front of the archer to protect him, he would never have died there.

Wanda didn't care about the rest of the team, but it was unsettling to see their guilt, their trepidation.  
They didn't even know him, why were they feeling these strong emotions? Of course it could be a farce, pretending just for their face in the public, but that wasn't the case here.

Since she had received her telekinetic powers she had grown used to double-checking the people around her. If they were telling the truth or if they were feeling differently as they showed it to others.

Most times the lies of people had given her more insight than she could have gathered if they would have told the truth.

The Avengers weren't lying about their feelings, the sorrow in their minds and hearts were as evident as in their faces. But what did that mean? Wanda wasn't sure.

Out of habit, her mind reached out to touch the familiar mind of her twin brother, like she did it every time she felt uncertain. 

But there was nothing more than void. As dark as her black dress and then another few shades darker. 

It was like a hole in the middle of a lake of water, like a scar in healed flesh. Pietro's mind had always been the closest to hears, and now it had been ripped away, leaving only a swallowing nothing.

Wanda wondered if it would pull her own mind in soon. Into the same hole where her brother was. That didn't sound that unappealing.

At the moment her head was empty anyways, it wouldn't make such a difference.

The last days, her brain had been buzzing with thoughts that wouldn't shut up anymore. Every fiber of her body had been shaking, shaking with restrained energy and emotion. 

Wanda wanted to cry, but she couldn't, she had to hold herself back. If she didn't, everything around her would collapse under her powers going cazy.

Rogers had said it was normal to mourn the dead, it would help.

But he didn't understand, hadn't he seen the inferno in Sokovia when she'd noticed that Pietro had died? Wanda didn't want to hurt or kill anymore, all she wanted was her brother back in her arms. But he had left forever, left her, alone under strangers she failed to understand.

She snapped back to awareness when a warm and firm hand gently pushed at her back. 

The coffin had found its new spot, stood perfectly settled in the grave, waiting for the earth to swallow it in its depth.

Wanda took the few steps until the bowl with the red rose petals was right next to her. She was the first one to pay the last respect to Pietro, since she was the only remaining family member. And friend.

Staring down at the white lilies, Wanda found herself unable to move. Down there was her beloved brother, the person that had kept her sane since they were kids. She couldn't throw some petals down there and turn away. She just couldn't.

Apparently, Wanda was frozen on the spot for longer than it felt like, because suddenly a man appeared next to her.

Slowly she turned her head, feeling surprised when she spotted Barton on her left. The strong eyes still on the grave, his posture and mimic looking strained.

Had he always seemed that old?

When Wanda still didn't move the archer met her gaze for the first time this day. He seemed to ask 'what's wrong?' and she tried to answer 'I can't' without invading his mind to speak to him that way. Barton apparently understood it like this, too. He contemplated something for a second before raising his hand to her hair.

Wanda had pinned her hair up, holding it together with one scarlet red ribbon. Pietro had liked her wearing red, he had been the one to make her love this colour.

Now Barton gently tugged at the ribbon and released her hair in that action, let it fell openly on her shoulders.

Confused, Wanda stared at the weird man, watching him give her a small smile. Barton passed her the ribbon and turned back to the grave.

After a second of hesitation, she let the fabric slip out of her fingers into the cold hole. It looked interesting on the top of the white flowers, a bit like drying blood on pale skin. Like Pietro had looked, right after he had died.

A cold hand wrapped around hers, squeezed lightly, held onto her. 

Barton smiled again, more sadly than the first time and nodded to the side of the group. Wanda followed him obediently, relieved that she could grip onto something. It kept her down on earth, she feared otherwise she would float like the seam of her dress.

But Barton didn't let go and safely led her back to the others. 

Stark was still watching her, but he wasn't the only one. Without her noticing, the Vision had joined the rest of the group. Wanda placed herself with her back to them, facing the closing grave, not for a second lessening the grip on Bartons hand.

The void next to her mind was still there, but it had stopped pulling her in. The darkness couldn't reach her anymore.

Wanda started to cry.


End file.
